


Stay

by TheThirdTemptationOfParis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AGRA Mentioned - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, let them rest, missing months
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8531350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThirdTemptationOfParis/pseuds/TheThirdTemptationOfParis
Summary: "Stay."A single word. Years of regret. The final breaking point.





	

“Stay.”

It’s said so quietly, John almost doesn’t hear it. He had been pacing Sherlock’s small hospital room for the better part of an hour, running everything through in his head. What kind of person could’ve done this? Why? The explanations made no sense. Every question possible going through his head. He’d been looking at the door, close to moving towards it to find Mary, the one who did this, himself and choke the life out of her. He’d almost lost him. He’d almost him again. His whole world, almost gone.

John turned, facing a half-awake Sherlock on the bed before darting over to the plastic chair he’d spent the better part of three days in, grasping the other man’s hand, not caring about propriety or how it would be seen. All of that be damned. “I’m not going anywhere, Sherlock. Not going anywhere at all.”

Sherlock shut his eyes and turned his face away. John could almost see the tears in his mind’s eye. He didn’t hesitate. Mary was gone, it was almost half two and he had been giving special permission to stay there, per Mycroft’s assistance. There was no one there but him and Sherlock. John loosened his grip on his hand and slowly, carefully, kissed each bony knuckle, “Look at me, Sherlock. Please?” 

But Sherlock, stubborn as ever, kept his head where it was, shaking it over and over, as if he didn’t believe any of this to be real. John’s heart nearly snapped in two. “You can act all poised about this when you’re not half dead in a hospital, but you can’t fool me. Haven’t been able to fool me for a long time actually. Please, turn and look at me, I need to know you’re listening when I say this.”

Begrudgingly, Sherlock turned his head toward John, but kept his eyes closed. John grits his teeth. What does stay mean if not _tell me? Tell me what we both know is true. Make it stop. Take away the sting of the years we’ve spent beside each other in nothing but absolute silence._ He moves one of his hands from Sherlock’s and gently, ever so gently, cups his jaw, thumb moving, working to smooth the features under it “Please. Just… please.” Sherlock nods once, and opens his eyes.

“I’m so tired, Sherlock. I’m tired of walking complete circles around each other every time we’re together. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, or standing on the edge of a cliff. I know the ending. I know it, but I’m just waiting for it. But I’m through waiting. I’m spent from waiting. This is my last straw. I don’t know if it’s yours. I almost lost you for a second time, and then almost a third. I had to look at her while standing over you, hoping, praying that this wouldn’t be how it would end. If you’d allow me, I’d finish it now. Finish her, get rid of her, fix all the pain I’ve caused.”

Sherlock took a deep breath, as if he’d been about to say something, but when he read the look in John’s eyes, he stopped, “You want to assure me, that none of this is my fault, that this is all on her, but don’t you see? That’s just it. There never would’ve been a her if I hadn’t left Baker Street that day. If I would’ve stayed longer, just a bit longer, I would’ve been able to have every single thing I’ve ever wanted, but I was clueless. I thought it was all over, that you wouldn’t want me to sit there and wallow in all of my pain. You would’ve wanted me to live, whatever that would’ve meant without you.

“If I hadn’t brought her into our lives, you wouldn’t be lying there right now with a hole in your chest.” John moves his hand from Sherlock’s face to the bandage wrapped around his torso, placing it over the spot he knows the scar will be, “This scar is mine just as much as it yours. I might as well have pulled the trigger. If I hadn’t brought her into our lives, this never would’ve happened.”

“John…” Sherlock said quietly, placing his own long, elegant hand over John’s smaller one, “Please… I’m sorry…”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t left.”

John shook his head, stilling the impulse to clench his fists, not wanting to hold on to Sherlock too tight, not wanting to hurt him. “No. Don’t blame yourself for this. I could’ve stayed. I could’ve waited. I was ready to finally take that step for so long before you left, about a year. I was going to once all of the nonsense with Moriarty was over, but… No. Don’t blame yourself. I should’ve seen what was right in front of me. I should’ve taken that step sooner.”

Sherlock looked at him intently, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have said yes. It would’ve put you more at risk than you already were. I couldn’t…” He fell into  
broken sobs and John moved to catch the broken pieces and hold them together. “John…”

John ran a hand through the curls and held Sherlock as close to his chest as he could, his own tears escaping his eyes, “I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you. I know, love, I know. I know. I didn’t imagine it would happen quite this way, but this seems to be the hand we were dealt. If I could fix every mistake I’ve ever made, I would. But I’m here now. We’re here now. We can only go from here. If you’re willing.”

Sherlock clutched the front of John’s shirt, balling the fabric into his fists, “John, I can’t. I don’t know how. And you’re still married. You loved her, I know you did. This is just the stress of the moment. You’ll regret this soon enough, you’ll--”

John shook his head and pulled Sherlock ever closer, “No, I won’t. Whatever you were going to say, no I won’t. And Sherlock, she’s gone. Missing. I’m sure Mycroft is out there looking, but it doesn’t matter. Everything I want, everything I need is right here. She is nothing but a liar, a woman I never knew. But you? Oh god, you’re everything. Have been for a long time.”

Sherlock’s fists seemed to grip harder to John’s shirt, his sobs racking his body. “John, you never cease to amaze me. I never thought--” he hiccupped, “never thought I’d have this. I thought I didn’t deserve this. What did I do to deserve you?”

John pulled back and cupped Sherlock’s cheeks, looking deep into those dumbfounding eyes, “Everything. Everything you’ve done is what you did.” he said, giving Sherlock’s words back to him wrapped in a new package, “It just took me too long to see it for what it was. Can you forgive me for that?” Sherlock nodded, “Sherlock, can I kiss you?”

“God, yes.”

When they kissed, it was like coming home, finally filling the holes in each other’s hearts. Holes they had likely inflicted on the other. John wanted to wrap Sherlock up tighter, hold him closer, hold him like he should’ve held him for so long, but he was still in a hospital bed. A hospital bed John second-handedly put him in. John growled, deepening the kiss, then pulling back briefly to speak, “I did this to you. God, how could you ever--”

Sherlock shook his head, kissing the corner of John’s mouth, “No, I don’t want to hear that coming from you. You didn’t do this to me, my love. I could never blame you for this, so don’t you dare blame yourself.” He pulled back and gripped John’s jaw lightly. He kept his eyes closed. “John, look at me.” Sherlock’s voice was quiet, insistent. John obliged. “I love you, John Hamish Watson, more than anything. I will not sit here and listen to you malign yourself. I love you, and we’ll fix this. Together.”

“Does this mean the worst part is over?” John asked.

Sherlock shook his head, “I think the worst may be yet to come, my love, but it’ll be there in the morning. But for now… stay?”

“Always.” John replied, grasping Sherlock’s head and kissing his forehead. They held each other as much as they could, enjoying the moment, ignoring the terrors that could come with the morning, hoping that joy would come instead.


End file.
